The Mirror Has Two Faces
by sharonarnotdon
Summary: Rating may goo up. What if Raoul was the killer in the Phantom of the Opera instead of erik but erik was framed just as he and Christine were planning to wed?
1. Default Chapter

_ The Mirror Has Two Faces_

- What if Raoul was the murderer in the story and Erik was accused with the crimes? It all begins with five simple words that Christine takes to heart, _Fear Can Turn To Love_, and when she is overheard confessing her feelings for Erik to her father's grave by Erik and she decides to marry him, things get ugly. I'll try my best to stay in character but since I'm swapping their personalities, it's going to be hard. I've put this in musicals because I'm going with the musical's time line even though the Phantom isn't known as Erik in it.

* * *

  


Chapter One- The Sign

  


Christine stared in horror at it. She blinked several times, hoping it would go away but it didn't.

A low whimper in her throat roused Erik from hiding it, he looked up at her, his agony apparent within the deep, nearly raw scars. He began to curse at her, his words a blur but she heard each one of them and the pain that went along. He called her his Pandora, his Delilah. Then he began to calm and his words were almost soothing as she stared.

She listened, her fear melting into pity. He spoke of the face, asking her how she managed not to turn away. How she had not run and gotten rid of the thought of him. But then how he dreamed of one day being happy even now that he was miserable. His next words struck her sharply.

"But Christine, fear can turn to love you'll learn to see to find the man behind the monster this, repulsive carcass who seems a beast but secretly dreams of beauty, secretly, secretly... Oh, Christine..." He held out his hand for the mask.

Her eyes filled with tears at this and she leaned forward, getting to her knees and placing the mask gently in his hand. She opened her mouth to apologize but he suggested they go for the managers would worry.

* * *

  


She went home that morning and straight to bed. But sleep did not come easily. She continued to think on his words. Did she fear him? No, she didn't. At least not when he wasn't angry, he was frightening when he was angry. Did she love him?

She thought for a moment. She definitely cared for him more than most people, but love? Yes perhaps she loved him, but if she was _in_ love with him, that was the real question.

She thought on this some. But after quite some time she still hadn't much of an answer. But she did know she wasn't in love with Raoul, he was sweet to her and very handsome, and he had a lot to offer, but Raoul wasn't the sort of person she saw herself spending her life with. He was a patron of the opera but he was no connoisseur. He had reminded her almost daily that when they were married she would not be able to sing with the opera anymore. 

She had thought over this many times. She got up from the bed and went into the kitchen of her small flat, heating up some milk. Her thoughts did not end there.

She thought of how Erik loved music and how wonderful living in the labyrinth must be, yes it was dark, but to live and breath on music, to feel the notes climbing through the air, to sit by his side and sing and know he loved her. To know he would do anything for her.

She shivered and poured the milk into a glass, sitting down and drinking it. She knew he loved her, she could see it in his eyes along with the pain, but it was stronger than the pain. She thought of the way she always felt around him. Her heart fluttered and she went numb from anything that had nothing to do with him. She could only hear his voice and his music, and only saw him, and the way he looked at her. Was she in love with him?

She finished the milk and put the glass in the sink for later. She smiled, realizing that she very much believed so.

* * *

  


She fell asleep with that and dreamt of Erik, happiness filled her dreams. She saw him, but he wasn't wearing the mask, and his face was whole. 

_He reached for her hand and she gave it to him. He pulled her through a field and then in the middle was a large grey stone._

_ Father- Charles Daae`._

_ She knew now what he wanted._

Christine jumped out of bed and changed her clothes and ran to the closet, grabbing her cloak and then ran out the door. She made her way down the stairs and out to the street, she flagged down a hansom and directed it to Perros.

* * *

  


Christine slowly approached the mausoleum, just the way she remembered it in her dream. She kneeled down and placed a hand on the gate, her eyes going over the name several times. "Hello, Papa. I bet you know why I'm here since you're in heaven now," she pulled some ivy from the gate. "I want you to know that I'm in love, and I want you to try your best to bless us. Papa I know you know who he is, and I know you know he loves me too."

Erik inhaled deeply from behind the mausoleum, his ears extremely intent on her words. He was sure she was going to mention Raoul.

"He's very kind to me, and he would never hurt me, and I know Erik and I can be happy, while I'm sure Raoul and I would not. Papa, I suppose I'm asking for your blessing, and that you help Erik understand that all he would have to do is ask, that he doesn't have to be so shy with me, with holding me. He doesn't have to take what I say the wrong way, he can trust me and my love for him." She sniffled and stroked the name . "And I do love him, I do."

Erik grasped the pole nearest him, she loved him. Christine really loved him. She had just confessed to God and her father. "Le Bon Dieu." He whispered, looking to the skies.

Christine felt hot tears pour down her cheeks. "I just don't know what to do, Papa, how do I tell him and know he will believe me?" She wiped the tears from her eyes. "Guide me."

Erik stepped from behind the mausoleum, she was looking to the ground, wiping her face with a handkerchief.

"Wandering child so lost, so helpless, yearning for my guidance."

She looked up and the shook was priceless. This is why he was in the dream, she was meant to have him hear her. She stood carefully. "Erik, I..."

He raised and hand and stepped closer. "Say no more, Cherie," She nearly melted as his arms found her waist. "You have said enough." He timidly leaned down and brought his lips to hers. She fell into the embrace, her arms finding his neck and pulling his body closer to hers. 

Both surprised each other with the hunger the other expressed for this simple yet powerful action. They parted after too short a time, she gazed into his eyes almost in disbelief. "Please say I'm not dreaming." She whispered, reaching up to touch his right cheek.

He flinched a bit. "Christine... this is no dream but," He looked down. "My face, it repulses you."

She continued to intently look at him. "No," He looked at her, confused. "It _repulsed_ me once, but now... I don't care."

"Once but that was just last night!" He cried, backing away from her.

She grabbed his arm and forced him to look into her blazing eyes. "It doesn't matter, my love is stronger than my fear."

He stared at her in disbelief for a moment. "Fear can turn to love..." He trailed off.

She shook her head. "No, it hasn't. Love has always been there, as has fear, but fear adds excitement. You are my love, my maestro," She kissed him gently. "My Angel."

He collapsed into her arms and cried for a bit, her own tears freely falling. "Come, you must get home and I have rehearsal." She said softly.

"Wait, Christine..." She turned to look at him.

"Yes, Erik?"

"Well, seeing as we might have your fathers permission, and well, we both love each other very much..." He looked at her questioningly. She nodded for him to continue.

He nervously fell to one knee, tearing the ring from his finger and taking her hand, slipping it on the tip then looking at her. "Will you marry me?"

She gasped for air. Tears poured from her eyes and her knees were becoming weak. "Oh, Erik of course I will!" She gasped. His own tears slid from the mask and she looked around, looking into his eyes then slowly removing the mask. "I'll marry _you_, not the Phantom."

He smiled and sniffed, slipping the rest of the ring onto her finger and then pulling her down to kiss. "I'll buy you something more elegant and your size soon enough." He whispered.

She smiled. "You don't have to..."

He placed a finger on her lips. "I will spoil you if I choose." He smiled and kissed her again.

"Let's go." She said, he helped her up.

"Those fools are casting you as the pageboy." He mumbled.

A wave of disappointment flowed through her but she hid it. "It's all right, I'll have my time."

He smiled and touched her cheek. "Yes, you shall."

* * *

  


I know it's a wee bit shorter than my usual stuff, but I have to separate ideas or ill go mad! Tell me what you think or I refuse to continue it!


	2. Chapter 2

_ Chapter Two- A Night At the Opera Garnier_

* * *

  


Christine Daae` almost carelessly smeared greasepaint on her face as she sat at her dressing room table, she smiled at the flowers her fiancé had left for her and a giddy, childish feeling overwhelmed her.

Her eyes fell to Erik's ring, safely secure to her finger, the onyx setting glowing in the candlelight. Her heart gave a leap as she thought of him in his knee in the cemetery. He loved her and she loved him, that was all that was important.

It was true, that only the evening before she had confessed her love she had wrung from him in terror of his face, and in the fact that he had deceived her. He was no angel, he was a man. But he was a man she loved very much and a man who loved her just as much.

She sighed, finishing her ritual. She hated the paint, for it's strong stench and thick consistency, but she had been told many times, either wear it or watch from behind the curtain.

She sighed, her spirits sunken by the thought of Firmin and Andre`, ordering her around and treating Carlotta as a princess.

_Someday that will be me,_ She thought. _Erik will help see to that._

She exited her dressing room with one final look into the mirror. She had a feeling Erik was in his box now, listening to the tuning of the instruments and talent of the musicians, finding something to criticize if he need to, as the overture played.

* * *

  


After the performance it was safe to say that Christine was worn out. She trudged to her dressing room, throwing her props down and she immediately began to undress. She did not care if Erik was watching, she wanted to get out of the tight costume as soon as possible.

She did so and only now did she realize the extended possibility of Erik's wandering eyes. She felt herself turn red in many places and her body was hot. She quickly slipped her dress

over her chemise and sighed sitting down. She rolled her neck, several cracks were produced, causing her to groan and rub her throbbing temples.

"Headache?" She looked into the doorway to see Raoul, standing against the frame.

She jumped up. "Raoul, how long have you been...?"

He grinned. "Two seconds, calm down. I came in when I heard you sit down." Raoul was by far the last person she wanted to see right now, she knew he was sweet on her, but she was not the least bit interested.

She sighed. "Raoul, I really do not want to talk, I'm quite tired and as you said, I have a headache."

He grinned. "Then to hell with talking." He reached out and pulled her roughly to him, pressing his warm, open mouth to her screwed shut one.

"Raoul, stop it let go of me! _LET GO!"_ She shoved him back.

He looked quite surprised. "Christine what is your problem?"

"_You_ are my problem , I am not _interested_ in you, you were my crush as a child but I have grown up and I think now would be an ideal time for you to do the same!" Her own words surprised her but she could not reverse them or say this differently, she was as frank as could be.

He stared at her. "But, Christine..."

"No buts Raoul, just..."

"I love you." He said, quite a bit more softly.

She looked at him. "No, you lust for me." She opened the door and did not look him in the eye. "Please..."

He sighed. "All right, but I'll be back, I'm not giving up on you, Christine, I never will."

She finally looked at him. "You really should, Raoul."

"Oh should I? Why, it's not like you love another, I know deep..."He was cut off as he stared at the ring on her finger. He had looked there to reassure himself there was no other, but the ring had stopped his speech.

Christine knew he noticed. "Goodnight Raoul."

"This is _not_ the end, Christine." He then turned and left the room.

She closed the door behind him. "Stubborn Chagny."

"I believe, my love, the term is 'stubborn ass'."

"Yes, that's what I said." She replied, almost drunk at his hypnotic voice. They had been engaged only two weeks, but she felt like she had already become his wife.


	3. Chapter 3

_The Mirror Has Two Faces- Chapter Three_

_ To Kill The Phantom _

(Quick note, this is WAY out of whack, Il Muto is two weeks after Erik first takes Christine to his lair in this.)

* * *

  


__ Raoul De Chagny stormed past the managers of the Opera Populaire without even a nod goodnight. He threw himself into his carriage and ordered the driver home.

As soon as the carriage stopped he was out, stalking into his home where he closed himself up in his study. He had to get her back, that was the only thought in his mind. But whose ring did she wear? The managers had not mentioned any man in her life!

She tapped his quill resolutely on some paper. He would find out who it was somehow, and then find a way to get him away from Christine. He would do anything for his Little Lotte, anything.

* * *

  


Christine happily hummed as she and Erik rowed across the lake. She had grown so accustomed to the boat ride now. Tomorrow night they performed 'Il Muto' and though she had a very minor role she was anyways excited.

Erik smiled as she did so, humming along as he polled them across the ink black waters, she had seemed so happy since their engagement, and he was glad he could be a part of it. He had never made anyone happy in his life, and to think she was as happy as she appeared, it was heaven.

They reached the wharf and he hopped out, assisting her in stepping onto the wooden dock and then tying the boat up. She waited with a smile and gave him a quick kiss before they went hand in hand into his home.

Erik guided her to the piano and they began work on some things, warm ups then serious aria's and such. Christine could almost feel the difference in her voice by each note she sang, amazing her. Her clear soprano seemed to follow his every instruction, making it hard to believe he was just a man, and not an angel.

After a few hours he sighed, placing the cover over the keys and motioning for her to sit down.

"You sound much better, though you should practice more."

She laughed. "I shall try, if it is even possible. Thank you, darling." She kissed his cheek and leaned her head against his shoulder, enjoying his company thoroughly.

He smiled, taking her hand and stroking it, marveling that she never took his ring off. He kissed the finger that bound her to him and found how hard it was to keep off of her.

She giggled at his sudden bout of hand kissing and turned to face him, her skirts winding in a most unladylike manner around her legs.

He gazed into her olive green eyes and then leaned in, claiming her delicate mouth. A cry of delight came from her and she returned his kiss, her hands coming up to grasp his shoulders. His need for her was strong and he debated wether or not he should take her into the other room and make love to her.

She herself was unsure wether she was ready for such an act, and her conversation with Raoul earlier did not make this any easier. She knew Raoul was now desperate for her affections, and would do anything possible to receive them. But he never would, she could not imagine loving Raoul as more than her boy hero.

Erik broke the kiss, his determined lips finding themselves on her cheek, then her forehead nose and then spreading kisses up and down her neck, lingering at her pulsing vein for a moment, then moving down to the hollow of her throat. His arms were searching her body, finding her defined muscles from her time with the conservatoire and the corps de ballet. 

She gasped and leaned into him, her mind made up. He smiled against her hot flesh and lifted her with ease, taking her into the bedroom and shutting the door.

* * *

  


"So she hasn't come home?"

"No monsieur, she must have stayed the night at her fiancé 's house." Christine's landlady answered Raoul, a question in her eye.

"Thank you, madame." He said leaving the building. _She never came home_, he thought to himself. _She spent the night in another mans bed!_

He angrily stormed down the street to his carriage, which he ordered to take him to the Opera. _Perhaps she went in._ He thought hopefully. 

He arrived and went straight to the mangers office. "Where is she?"

"Carlotta?" Firmin asked.

"No, Miss Daae`."

"Oh," Andre` started., "Haven't the slightest clue."

Raoul rolled his eyes. "Great, you and the rest of the world."

Firmin looked curiously at him. "Is something wrong, Monsieur?"

Raoul snorted. "Lets just call it a lovers quarrel."

Andre` chuckled. "Well don't quarrel her up too much."

This reminded Raoul of something. "Say, I got a letter in the post, did you send it?"

"No, why?"

"It's eerie, speaks of Christine being all right with her Angel of Music."

"No, we didn't send anything of the sort."

Raoul was perplexed. "Then... Who did?"

* * *

  


Christine stepped from the boat, anxiously waiting for Erik to do so. The moment he did her hands went up into his jacket and her lips covered his, her joy undeniable. He laughed against her, she had not been able to keep her hands off of him, not when they awoke, not before and after they ate, not before they got into the boat and now not after.

He gently brought her back and looked into her eyes. "Christine, I suppose you're happy? No regrets?"

She smiled, slipping her arms up around his neck as he put his around here waist. "Not even the maddest person on Earth could regret such a wonderful beautiful perfect thing."

He smiled. "You'd better get up, they'll wonder about you if they hear you never went home."

"I'll see you after rehearsal?" She asked hopefully.

He kissed her softly. "Of course."

She sighed and slowly stepped back from him. "All right." She began to make her way up the path of the mirror, looking back and blowing him a kiss before making sure no one was in the room.

She emerged into the light, blinking, trying to get used to it. She quickly ran out to the auditorium where Reyer was preparing.

"A bit early, eh Mademoiselle?"

"Yes Monsieur, a bit." She began to hum and then sing, waltzing about the stage happily.

Reyer smugly smiled, he had never disliked her or her voice, rather just how Carlotta would have him fired if she sung in her place ever again. He also had an idea as to why she was so happy.

"Make a night of it did you Mademoiselle?" She froze at the incredibly rude question. 

"Pardon me, Monsieur?"

"Nothing, nothing, I never should have asked." He responded, shaking his and.

"Well in the future remind yourself that my... Intimate life does not concern you!" Though he had waved it off she was deeply insulted that he would assume such a thing.

"Relax Mamselle, I know actresses are fallen women..."

She decided to play along. "Shamelessly, especially Signora Carlotta, so shamelessly fallen she is..."

Reyer grouchily returned to his work when Carlotta pranced in, warming up.

Christine rolled her eyes and continued to dance about, humming a note less tune.

"Look at dis Ubaldo! It is love stricken!" She laughed at Christine. "I suppose the Vicomte has pleased you?"

"No," Christine responded. "I am not interested in the Vicomte..."

'Mademoiselle Daae`'s personal life is of no concern to the lot of you, leave her be!' Erik's voice interrupted, obviously tired of the prying Italians and repetituer.

Christine sighed and sat down on the cold stage, awaiting the rest of the cast for the final rehearsal before tonight.

* * *

  


"Serifimo, away with this pretense," Carlotta ripped the skirt from Christine. "You cannot speak, but kiss me in my husband's absence."

The music and Carlotta droned on, Christine unable to concentrate until Carlotta resorted to kicking her several times.

Erik's voice changed it all, as he scolded Raoul for sitting in his box. She watched Raoul get up and a chorus girl said. "Whose was that voice?"

She smiled. "Le Fantome Del'Opera!" She replied.

"_Your_ part is silent, little toad!"

'A toad Madame, perhaps it is _you_ who are the toad!'

Carlotta tried uselessly to try and sing but emitted croaks instead, Christine ran back stage, hurrying to get ready when she heard voices.

"I asked you a question, Buquet, are you or are you not courting Mademoiselle Daae`?"

"And I told you Monsieur, no."

"How dare you take that tone with me!" Christine stared at the shadows in horror as Raoul threw a bit of scenery rope around his throat, and tugged. Buquet hung lifelessly and Raoul pushed the rope onto the stage, where the ballet was performing. Meg screamed and Christine hurriedly looked for Erik.

"Erik, where are you?"

"Shhh, here Christine, on the catwalk." She looked up to see just the white mask of her love in the shadows.

She quietly climbed the ladder and with his assistance got up onto the catwalk. "To the roof, we'll be safe there."

He nodded and she guided him to the stairs leading to the rooftop. Hurriedly they went to stand near Apollo's statue.

"Why here, Christine?"

"I cannot go back, raoul, he killed Buquet."

He raised an eyebrow suspiciously. "How do you know?"

She was shaking and he put an arm around her. "I saw Erik, they were arguing and he put the rope and tugged and pushed him out..."

"You saw this?"

"Yes in the shadows." She whispered. "Only the shadows."

"Maybe so, but shadows never lie, I've lived with them for years, darling. But why have you brought us here?"

"He's upset I won't see him, he thought Buquet was seeing me, he would kill me too."

"I would never let that happen, Christine." He told her fiercely, bringing her face to look at him. "Never!"

She snuggled against his shirt. "I love you, I never want to lose you, please, let's run away, we can go far away and get married and start anew, please my love..."

Raoul listened intently from behind the statue.

"I'm so frightened to stay here, please..."

Erik kissed her hand. "All right, after the new year. I promise you. But right now we must stay in seclusion here, you don't know me and I merely support you as a believer as they think I am."

Christine nodded. "I know you can protect me, so this is all right." She whispered. He smiled laying his face in her hair. 

"Christine, I love you."

She smiled. "We can take Ce`sar, no one would know, we can ride together to the pier and get on whichever boat we choose. And perhaps get married on it by the captain and oh Erik it will be so wonderful then!"

Raoul angrily bit his lip, biting back a cry of rage at the same time. She was engaged to the _Phantom_? A madman whose idea of life is living under the Opera, writing music and encouraging young women?

He heard the two hurry off and he stood from his hiding place. "I will have you, Little Lotte, make no mistake of that." And with that he left the rooftop, knowing Christine would not give him away, but to think she had more than likely made love to the Phantom! He was sickened and he began to think horrible thoughts, Buquet was easy to kill, his fat neck snapped almost instantly, this man was tricky, he may be harder. But Raoul Vicomte De Chagny would find a way to kill the Phantom.


	4. Chapter 4

_Chapter 4-_

_Masquerade! _

* * *

  


Christine stood looking at herself in the mirror of her dressing room. She was indeed admiring a costume, but not one for an opera. This costume was for the masked ball held tonight. The masked ball Erik would escort her to.

She sighed, sitting down, awaiting his arrival. Before long the mirror swung open and he stepped out, causing her to gasp and begin to laugh.

He smiled beneath the mask which covered his entire face, beneath it hung some silver pleats, cascading down to his collar, his red fedora included a couple of feathers. The complete outfit was red, the shoulders puffed as were the knee length trousers. His red cloak was trimmed in black and red and the rest was covered in black and red sequins in an intricate lined pattern. Christine smiled, her violet skirt flowing as she stood, he admired her costume as he watched her move toward him.

It was much like that of one of the ballerina's, only the skirt was more limp, and long. Several areas also had scattered sequins, and on her arms were two puffy detached sleeves. The torso was much like a corset, decorated much more elaborately though.

She lifted the mask from his face and pressed a kiss to his lips, uncaring of the scarred side. "You look great." She whispered.

He brought her closer, holding her in a possessive manner. "You look wonderful." He kissed her again. She giggled.

She sighed and nuzzled his right cheek with her left one. "When do we leave?"

He chuckled. "Well, I have a proposition to make to the managers, and if it doesn't go well soon my darling, very soon."

She quirked an eyebrow. "What sort of proposition?"

"It has to do with your singing, and we can have Raoul caught for murdering Buquet at once. They know he did it."

She sighed. "Erik,...."

"I know, I know, don't do anything stupid and I won't." He kissed her cheek and brought her to look him in the eyes. "But I'll need your help."

She melted in his beseeching gaze. "You will always have it."

He smiled, unable to keep from kissing her again, then pulling on the mask to hide his face again. He extended a palm. "Come."

She took it, marveling that it was un gloved. He squeezed her hand tightly, then led her from the room, and out into the foyer and the staircase.

They gazed out over the people, dancing and laughing and she felt Erik exhale deeply. She smiled, for one night, he could be a normal man. Madame Giry and Meg, of course, knew who he was. Christine was surprised not to see raoul, but she shrugged it off. Glad he was not there. The managers and everyone else were very curious as to whom she had brought, and it would only be polite to introduce him, but he shrugged away. 

"Not yet, let's dance." he murmured. She nodded and fell into his arms, and they danced, it was a waltz at the moment, so it was fairly easy. Soon enough they could feel every pair of eyes on them, and then a new pair of eyes.

Christine flinched under Raoul's leer. She was grateful when the waltz ended and she gestured for Erik to come sit with her and Madame Giry. The three talked for a while, she was still aware of his eyes on her, but Raoul said nothing, he stared in jealous hatred.

She nervously smiled at one of Erik's jokes, and was surprised when he asked Madame to excuse them suddenly. He pulled her away and leaned to whisper. "What is wrong?"

"He won't stop staring at me!" She growled moodily. He sighed and led her to sit then he approached Messieurs Firmin and Andre`, she anxiously watched as he handed them a thick manuscript, both looking terrified but nodding in understanding.

Christine watched as raoul clenched his fists, erik moved back to her but froze stiff when Raoul shouted. "Since when are murderer's invited to these gala's?" He asked.

Christine stood to shout but he continued. "You know Christine, I never thought you'd sink so low as to sharing a killer's bed."

A hot blush spread over her cheeks and she narrowed her eyes. "I mean, you were once so good and pure, and now you've resorted to being the whore of a monster? You wear his ring and plan to wear his name? The man who killed Joseph Buquet?"

Gasps surrounded her and people inched away from both her and Erik. Only Madame and Meg Giry stayed near to them. Christine growled in a low, heated voice. "I would give every embrace from you just for the hem of his cloak to touch me by accident."

Raoul's face was red. "Oh, and what of me would you give for him to 'make love' to you?" he sneered.

"Anything."

Erik finally spoke. "I must admit, sinking to the low to blame me for your murdering Buquet is quite desperate, so how much are you paying these poor managers to conceal your secret?"

Raoul hissed,"Somebody escort him out of here!"

Several gendarmes entered, moving towards Erik, Christine ran up to him, and he wrapped her into the embrace of his cloak, and they disappeared.

Gasps were emitted from the crowd and Raoul cursed out loud. "FIND THEM!"

* * *

  


"What do we do now?" Christine panicked as they entered his home.

"We must leave, but only for a little while. Not far."

She curiously looked at him. "Where?"

"My friend Nadir has room for us in his home." he informed her. "Here, I've packed you some clothes. We best go out to the Rue Scribe."

She nodded, grabbing the bag and following him from the building.

He flagged down a coach, throwing their bags up in the front, then assisting his fiancée into the carriage. He hopped up into it, closing the door and giving the driver some instructions through the open window.

Christine sighed wearily and leaned her head against his shoulder, his arm coming around her protectively as they rode.

Perhaps two hours later they arrived at a slightly above average sized home. It was dark inside, but Erik ushered her forward, gently guiding her by her hand. He then knocked loudly on the door and several minutes later a short, darker skinned man with a black moustache and a turban answered.

"Erik! This certainly is a surprise!" He exclaimed.

"Forgive me Nadir, I realize it's early in the morning, but we had to go..." His look completed the thought. Nadir nodded. "This is my fiancée mademoiselle Daae`. Christine, this is Nadir."

Nadir smiled sleepily. "A charm, mademoiselle."

"Thank you monsieur," She said politely. "It is a charm to meet you too."

Nadir showed them both to a bedroom, and Christine didn't even bother to change before falling into the elegantly spread bed. Erik laughed.

"Good night, darling."

She sighed and kissed him. "Goodnight, Erik."

* * *

  


Raoul swore as he slammed his bedroom door. Vanished. They had vanished from the face of the earth. They had spent hours combing Paris, but it had been to no prevail. He threw himself into bed, thinking on her and how angry his words had made her. She was so beautiful, even though she was boiling with anger.

He began to imagine the monster being replaced by him, making love to her, and having her enjoy it. But quickly his face was wiped away, and the monsters replaced it. He had been planning for six months his way of getting her back, and he would not allow him to destroy it.

The Phantom was a worthy opponent, and he knew he must find them before they were married. He had to get her back before she shared his bed ever again.

He hissed at this. She probably was right now, a victory roll in the hay. They had gotten away, and they had angered Raoul more. He realized at this moment that keeping calm and cool may be the only way to get her back now. He may have to play it cool, he may have to pretend to have moved on. But with who.

Oh, of course! He grinned, falling asleep, only one young woman would do, one young woman that supported the two. He wondered if the ballerina knew where Christine was right now.

* * *

  


"Do you think they're ok?" Meg Giry asked her mother.

"Yes, I've known Erik for many years, he will take care of her." Madame insisted. 

Meg sighed slipping under the covers. "I hope so, Christine's so happy with him."

Madame smiled. "Could you blame her? He's smart, talented, handsome..."

"Handsome? Momma you know he isn't ..."

"My dear, you have not yet seen the side of Erik I've seen, when you do, you will understand." She kissed her daughters head.

"Goodnight, Momma."

"Goodnight, Meg."

* * *

  


Good? Ok, stupid, horrible? Drop me a line and any ideas you may have.


	5. Chapter 5

_Chapter Five-_

_The Deception of a Man_

* * *

  


Christine awoke the next morning and felt as if a dead body was on top of her. No wait, there was no _dead_ body, it was breathing!

She squirmed to look at the figure holding her and both a smile and sigh of relief were released from her mouth as she recognized him. She rolled him off of her so he was on his back against the bed, and rested her face in his shoulder.

"My Erik, my love.." She mumbled, yawning. He stirred beneath her and she heard his breath catch.

His hand came up and timidly rested on hers, which was resting on his chest, she smiled, shifting her head to look at him.

"Hello, my love." She said softly, her smile groggy but her eyes full of love.

His own drowsy eyes softened and he brought her up for a kiss, then settled her face back into his shoulder. "Did you sleep well?"

She chuckled. "I did, waking up, however, was somewhat a challenge."

"Oh, why is that?" He was absentmindedly stroking her hair. 

"Because I had a body on me." She made sure she sounded casual.

He froze, his voice was cold and homicidal. "Body?"

She purred. "Oh yes, a big, strong masculine one, handsome he was..."

"Christine!" He said, bolting upright, bringing her with him, his eyes shown with fury and pain.

She giggled. "Yes, you know Erik, I think, _I _should be the one to sleep on top from now on..."

He settled again. "You had me worked up."

"You should know I would never do that, I wish you'd play along rather than go into hysterics." Her tone was still playful.

He fell. "Well, was this man, in good shape?"

She purred again. "Oh yes, very sturdy and soooo desirable..."

He chuckled. "How about end..."

Before he could finish a knock sounded on the door. "I hope that whispering is plotting a way to get away from the gendarmes that'll be in these parts in a couple of hours!"

Erik groaned. "Daroga, you never cease to spoil good moments, do you?"

"Oh pity if I do, hurry up and get downstairs, breakfast has already been served."

Christine giggled and pressed Erik to the mattress, a hand holding each of his arms, her thighs on his legs, her body pressed tightly to his. He stared at her mischievous eyes and chuckled as she leaned in to kiss him, then she trailed several kisses down his jaw and throat. "I hardly think we can hurry this up, darling."

Christine sighed. "I wish we weren't here." She got off of him, then stretched, glaring at the wrinkles in her dress. She went to get a new one, not shy of him watching her now. She teasingly slipped from the other one, then into the fresh one, she brushed her hair and washed her face, finally looking at her fiancé.

He shook his head, finding his own clothing, then dressing. He set his mask in place and escorted her to the door, unlocking it, then leading her down the stairs and into the dining room, where the Daroga patiently waited.

They discussed several distractions in case they were met by gendarmes before they wanted to, and soon Nadir was seeing the couple off.

"Don't do anything stupid." he called after Erik as the coach rode away, Erik's hand appeared out the window, waving off his comment.

* * *

  


Meg Giry finished her stretches, then went to get her bag to change. She looked up when she began to walk to her dressing room and gasped as the doorway was blocked, by the Vicomte de Chagny.

"Good morning, mademoiselle." he said cheerily, looking her up and down. She blushed, wrapping her arms around herself.

"Can I help you monsieur?"

He laughed. "No, not really, what are you doing tonight?"

She shifted her footing. "Nothing."

He paused. "Have dinner with me."

Her eyes widened and her blush deepened. "Dinner monsieur?"

He laughed lightly. "Oui, may I come get you around seven?"

She looked at her feet. "Yes monsieur."

He smiled with pity and reached out, touching her red cheek. "Adieu."

"Adieu." She watched him go. Something was not right.

* * *

  


"Monsieur le Vicomte, why have you asked me here?" Meg asked unsteadily, shifting in her seat.

He laughed. "All right I'll tell you, Meg Giry I fancy you, I always have and now that Christine has run off..." His voice trailed off and his eyes met her own surprised ones.

"You... Fancy me?"

He grinned, raising his hand. "Check, please."

Meg stared as he payed the bill and then helped her from her chair, he took her out into his carriage, telling the diver to take them somewhere.

"Meg, you cannot be so modest! You're beautiful, smart, talented. What is there not to fancy?"

She blushed. "I don't know," She looked at him, trying to make conversation. "You are very handsome."

He chuckled, leaning in, pressing a kiss to her set mouth. "In many places, too."

Meg blushed furiously, turning to look out the window, surprised to be pulling up to his home. "Monsieur le Vicomte?"

He shook his head. "Call me Raoul."

"Raoul," She tested the name like a sweet. "Why are we here?"

He grinned, helping her out. "Why else?"

* * *

  


Erik helped Christine from the coach, drawing her onto the cobbles, then closing the door. Taking her hand possessively he led her into the small cottage, then turned and paid the driver.

Christine ventured in, it was indeed small, one hallway separating all of the rooms. She moved about to see it had two bedrooms, the small sitting room, a dining room and kitchen. 

Sighing she returned to the living room, where Erik sat, resting. She smiled, sitting next to him and kissing his unmasked cheek.

"It's perfect."

He smiled. "For now at least, while we are away. I am worried though,"

She looked at him. "About what?"

He sighed. "I just hope that foolish Vicomte doesn't try and use anyone for information on us. They don't know where we are save the Daroga, and they don't know him, we are safe, but I fear he will harm our Giry friends because they cannot give information..."

Christine sat there in silence. She had not thought of what Raoul would do to Meg, or Mme, she had only thought of getting away with Erik. She swallowed. He looked at er and sighed, taking her hand and kissing it. "I'm getting you worked up, I am sorry, darling."

She shook her head. "No, it's all right. I'm fine." She stood, going to ride one of the horses in the stables here. He must have really planned in advance!

She chose a black mare, with a white stripe going down it's nose. Saddling it and attaching it's harness and bridle she mounted it, and rode around the many acres. How fast and graceful was this creature! Reminding her greatly of Erik.

"Phantom," She whispered, dismounting. "I shall call you Phantom."

* * *

  


Ok, thats it for now. Gimme some ideas!


	6. Chapter 6

_Chapter 6_

_The Phantom's Aria-_ (no pun intended)

AN- this will be VERY short! It is just about an evening in the cottage.....

* * *

  


Christine sighed, setting down her shovel at the clock's insistent chime from indoors, she dusted off her hands and then went in, washing them and changing from her work clothes. She set about making dinner in the kitchen when a melody swam in from the living room, enticing her to come to it.

She made sure that the food would not burn if she left it, turning down the heat by putting it out some, then she followed the sweet sound to her fiancé, playing softly on his violin. She smiled, sitting next to him, his eyes closed as he played the enchanting piece, they opened momentarily, and he gestured to some parchment on the table, she lifted it, and he began the song again, she followed with the words.

It was the height of a new Opera he had been working on, the aria, written for her voice. Since they could not bring a piano the violin was the only accompaniment he could provide other than his voice. But his attention was on his music, and he had closed his eyes, allowing himself concentration. 

She found it much easier to do with her own eyes closed, the song soared from her, a golden melody of love and torment, her bell like voice filled the room, but she didn't pay heed to it, she lost herself in the music.

She had not noticed when Erik stopped playing, she continued to sing, until the aria came to an end, and she sighed at this, finally looking at him, crying out with alarm at the tears on his cheeks.

"Did I sing something wrong?" She asked, she clasped his hands, holding his wrists firmly until he pulled them away to wipe his eyes messily on his sleeves.

"No my love, that was so perfect and so beautiful." He kissed her hand, shivering slightly, and then scooping her up into a hug, she melted like puddy in his arms, savoring the embrace as if it would be their last.

But it wouldn't, this she knew. She would stay with him forever, and would love him longer than that. She sniffed and could smell the food begin to really get done. She bolted up and took the items off the stove, working at portioning them out to be eaten, even with the whistling tea kettle she could hear his rich, deep laughter coming from the sitting room, rolling like a river, the beat of it even more rhythmic than that of a drum.


	7. Chapter 7

_Chapter Seven-_

_On the Town_

Note- grrrrrr! Mademoiselle myself has a terrible sinus cold! Which makes teaching nearly impossible and singing quite difficult.__

* * *

  


Christine went into the kitchen around a week later, beginning to get things together for dinner. She gasped and then began to laugh as her husband's arms encircled her from behind. She turned facing him and sighing as he placed a delicate kiss to her mouth.

"Let's go out." He said softly.

"Oh?" She chuckled, entwining her fingers in his lapels. "Where?"

He grinned. "Le Café del'opera!"

She frowned, shaking her head. "Erik,"

"Christine I know what I am doing, come, you must get ready, I must fetch something."

* * *

"I don't like this, Erik, not one bit!" Christine hung nervously on his arm as they entered the Café. She indeed did recognize most of the men and women here as patrons and their wives, and even a few chorus members and dancers. Mouths fell open as she entered with the Opera Ghost. Eyes were wide and people began to whisper quietly.

Christine froze as she witnessed what she was witnessing (gee, that sounds professional!). There sat Raoul, and across from him Meg, fluttering with happiness. Erik began t lead her in the direction but she froze, not budging.

"Christine..."

"Erik I can't!" She quivered.

He kissed her hand soothingly. " Trust me, and it will be ok." She looked into his calm, sure eyes and melted, following him to the back of the restaurant. 

Raoul laughed and looked up, his mirth ending instantly and he stood. "_You_!"

His eyes flamed at Erik, Meg ran to Christine, embracing her and whispering that she needed to speak with her.

"Meg, later. I... I do not trust them alone together." She wrung her hands nervously as Erik stood boldly before Raoul.

"Monsieur, I hardly think that is any way to greet myself and my fiancée!" Erik's tone was calm and cold.

Raoul scoffed. "I honestly do not care about what you may think! _My_ fiancée and myself are trying to have dinner!"

Erik chuckled and shrugged. "You stood, monsieur. I had said nothing to you." Turning, he offered his arm to Christine again. "Darling?"

She took it quickly and he led her to the table he had reserved. "Erik, please don't do anything foolish..."

Chuckling he shook his head. "Do not worry my love! In fact after this I have planned something I am sure you will enjoy..."

She looked at him, perplexed. "What is that?"

He shook his head. "I cannot tell you that! It is a surprise!"

She sighed smirking, she was used to his surprises which he showered her with much of the time! "Can you believe it? Raoul and Meg!"

He laughed. "Yes it certainly _does_ look as though they have been... what's the proper word? _Busy..._"

Christine gasped. "How would you know?"

"Please! Look at how she holds herself! The way she lets her legs hand open slightly, the twitter of her small talk, the bat of her lashes! I've studied people many a year and besides my love," He purred, taking her hand across the table. "We too, have been in that position."

She blushed and nodded. "I never noticed." He stroked her hand gently, his eyes blazing into hers. After their first two times both had agreed it was not safe to continue their physical expressions of love until after marriage. Christine shamefully wondered when that would be...

They ordered ate and almost immediately left, to her surprise, for Erik usually liked to stay longer and talk.

He had their driver take them to the docks, where a small ship waited, a man on the deck, smiling. She turned to him. "Erik, why are we here?"

He smiled tenderly, brushing some hair from her cheek. "Christine, would you like an impetuous wedding?"

Laughing she fell into his arms, nuzzling his suit front. "Yes, very much." She murmured.

He gently guided her onto the ship, where they exchanged does and to Christine's surprise plain, but lovely rings. Erik explained that they would sail the Seine for several days as a short honeymoon, and once things with the Opera were settles they would have a larger wedding and a longer, more private honeymoon.

"It doesn't matter to me," She answered, resting her forehead on his. "Not as long as I'm with you."

* * *

  


Short as it was, it was delightful to sail the river with him, holding her as the wind blew in her hair, or when they had more private moments below in their cabin. The week on the water was bliss.

When they finally returned to their cottage Christine finally felt regret take it's toll on her. The building was stuffy, and smelled of dust and other unpleasant things. She set to opening the shutters, and found some fish she had left out mistakenly, half rotted on the counter-space. Disgusted, she picked it up with something and threw it out the window for the crows to peck.

But once she and Erik could settle on the couch, arms around each other, voices mingled in muffled song everything became worth it. The warmth caused by such moments often caused Christine alarm, for she thought she may be feverish with her love for him. He laughed at her when she told him so and then he kissed her forehead, saying that he had a likewise fever.

A letter came in the post the day after their return from the Place del'opera. Christine was indeed curious as to how they had gotten their address, and why they so urgently wanted to see her the next morning, but she threw it aside, for she had other plans with her husband, on the town.


	8. Chapter 8

_A New Opera_

* * *

  


AN- I just got a weekend job as a librarian right, and it was funny `cause that same day, I was bored so I popped 'The Music Man' DVD in and my favorite scene happens to be 'Marian the librarian'. I just cant imagine people dancing in the library, or that many people in the library! Well uh, my usual thanks to the usual people.

  


Raoul- And even some unusual reviewers. And some flamers...

  


Moi- Yes, yes of course.

  


Raoul- What can I do, my dear, to catch, your ear, I love you madly, madly Madame librarian! Marian... Er, uh, what can I say, my dear, to make it clear, I need you badly, badly Madame librarian...

  


Moi- You're very flattering but lets not waste the people's time, darling.

* * *

  


Christine sighed as she entered the opera house, fixing her skirts and untying the ribbon under her hat. She slipped of the bonnet like shield, the blue satin smooth in her un-gloved hands. It had been a gift from her husband, and she dearly treasured it.

She made her way across the building, smiling at Bernard, who sat outside the mangers office and asked the men if a guest was welcome. She fished in her bag and showed him her letter. He nodded at her politely and went in, muffled conversation could be heard, then he returned, handing her the paper back.

"You may go in, Mademoiselle."

She laughed lightly at the title and entered. "Messieurs, I'll have you know that I am no longer Mlle, as I was addressed by both your letter and doorman."

Perplexed, Andre sputtered. "Forgive us, er Madame. Please, have a seat."

To her utter surprise, Firmin pulled out a chair, smiled as she sat, and pushed it in gently. "Are you well, Messieurs?"

"Splendidly," Firmin assured her. "Now then, when do we meet this husband of yours?"

She smiled. "Why, when he gives you the new opera!"

They stared at her. "New opera?" Andre asked.

"Why yes Monsieur, my darling husband has composed you one."

Firmin grinned. "That was kind of him, Madame! I suppose he knows of our fall in for a new production?"

"Oui monsieur, and he has even offered to do the conducting, as it is a bit... Newly fashioned." She eyed both men, who were nearly drooling over the desk.

Andre laughed. "You know us too well, Madame!"

She raised a brow in false confusion. "Pardon?"

"Madame, you know we could never refuse!"

She smiled. "I suppose not. Now then, why did you call me in?"

Firmin waved it off. "Never mind it is settled. Now, what is the name of this opera?"

"_The Burning Rose_, messieurs."

They grinned madly. "Very dramatic! Well madame, when can you bring in a manuscript?"

She grinned, leaning over the desk and nearly whispering. "When I have your promise."

"Yes?" Andre urged.

"That you will not betray, berate, or try to kick Erik out of this or cheat him, you will not obey the vicomte no matter what and you will do exactly as he says, no questions asked."

"Erik?" Firmin asked. "Yes you have our promise. Erik, Erik, where have I..." He froze just as he finished signing her document, which Andre had already signed. "No."

"What Firmin? The lady's husband's name is Erik."

"Giles," He said, looking at his partner. "Le Fantome's name is Erik."

Andre gaped at Christine, who was smiling broadly. "I see that the two of you have spoken to Madame Giry as the letter from my husband suggested," She paused. "I'm glad. Au revoir, gentlemen."

* * *

"Christine, have you seen the first page of the Overture?"

"Yes, it's on the mantle." She called, finishing her work in the kitchen.

"How did the meeting go?" He asked, setting about getting the music. 

"Well, they signed it and obviously got and obeyed your letter. Now we have but to wait for Raoul to jump in."

He chuckled. "Have you seen the morning paper?"

"No, why?" She came out, wiping her hands on her apron, causing him to smile with pride at the image.

"He and Meg Giry were married yesterday."

She froze, her smile melting away. "Oh?"

He chuckled again, setting down his sheets and moving to her, wrapping her in his arms. "You aren't jealous are you?"

"No! I just don't want Meg to get into the middle of this!"

He sighed, kissing her forehead. "Sometimes we must sacrifice to gain." 

She went nearly limp. "Yes, but Meg and I have been friends for some time. I would hate to lose her."

He nodded and kissed her now tear salty lips. "Do not worry cherie, it will all work out eventually."

She sighed, smiling and kissing him. "I hope so."

* * *

  


"Christine, Christine have you heard?"

She laughed as Meg came running to hug her. "Yes Meg, who hasn't? Congratulations."

Meg smiled, her eyes hitting Christine's ring. "You too, I see. Erik?"

Christine nodded. "Yes, amie, but lets not discuss that. Did you enjoy the honeymoon?"

"Oh greatly, have you heard we're doing a new opera?"

"Of course, Erik wrote it."

"And they agreed to do it?"

Christine smiled smugly. "Never you mind, you just get the ballet right!"

Meg smiled, hugging her once again. "Christine, no matter what, I will always be your friend. Even if Raoul gave me considerable reason not to. If anyone. You are perfect."

She frowned. "Alas amie, I am not. But thank you, I feel the same."

* * *

  


Short and sweet, r and r. Later

C.Daaerre


End file.
